


To Feel You Once More

by RobinWritesChirps



Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst, Canon Scene, F/M, Mild Smut, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 05:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21387124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinWritesChirps/pseuds/RobinWritesChirps
Summary: A little exploration on the Cineplex scene.Obviously spoilers for Black Friday, read at your own risk.
Relationships: Becky Barnes/Tom Houston
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	To Feel You Once More

Lips against lips, her hands tearing open his shirt, Tom forgot about the pain past and present and fell to Becky's charms like one falls in love.

He already had once, of course, back when they were kids, before life caught up and tore her from him. How long ago since the last time? Fifteen painful years, something around that. He had stopped counting. He thought he had stopped caring. It hadn't truly been the last after all, anyway. Half a lifetime gone with a kiss, except not really, never truly leaving him no matter how ardently, how strongly he pushed it down every ongoing moment of his life. The past was with him always, haunting and supporting him. Even the precious time he had had with her was still his, no matter how distant. He almost remembered it again.

Belt unbuckled, pants tugged down, her palm against his dick, pumping him hard like there was no tomorrow. He kissed her. Fifteen years apart, living the sad tragedy of their painful lives away from each other but goddammit, he kissed her and almost felt alive again. Sad eyes, sad lips, but wet under his fingers and hasty to trap him between her legs. Hard linoleum under her back, under his arms as he leaned on his elbows and kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. He pushed inside her like he would never have the chance to again – and who knew if he would. A groan, but was it his or hers?

"I've loved you, Becky Barnes," he muttered against her lips. His hips snapping into hers sharply, hurriedly. They still fit. Lost the shadow of themselves but at least, their bodies remembered the old dance. "I love you."

He remembered their first times. They hadn't been each other's first absolutely everything, but a lot of it and the most meaningful, the most tender moments of their youth had been together. Not each other's first kiss, neither of them. He'd even gotten a few rushed and secretive handjobs by another girlfriend the summer right before high school. Another guy had seen her boobs before him. Everything else after that had been Tom and Becky, Becky and Tom. First time saying I love you. First time meaning it, too. A scatter of first times discovering themselves, discovering each other. A million of not-first times had followed.

He remembered the first time he had touched her, for the simple reason that it had happened in those exact seats. Paying for her ticket, her popcorn, but once the room went dark and the screen lit up, nothing could tear them from each other, the movie unwatched, unseen, irrelevant. They had made out more hours in this dumb movie theater than any sane person could possibly conceive. He remembered how, pulling his hand under her sweater, she had unbuttoned her jeans and asked him to _please, Tom, I want you to touch me,_ and he had never quite forgotten the way she had squirmed into his fumbling fingers and breathed burning hot against his ear and told him she loved him more than anything in the world.

The first time they had made love, he had thought that he would never be able to do anything else, that he had found the secret recipe to happiness forever and it was right here in her arms, between her legs. Currently, they wrapped around his hips, her fingers clutching his back almost painfully tight, and Tom thought that if he gave it enough time, he might just try and remember how it had felt that very first time.

"Tom," she whispered, her intoxicating voice sliding right into his ear to spread her magic through him, "Tom, I still love you too..."

It wasn't like it had been, it didn't feel the same. But, perhaps, if he looked into her eyes and kissed her lips long enough, then he would fool even himself to think it was. On the screen, Santa was admitting his feelings to his sweetheart but it was Tom who was getting a gift, unwrapping it neat and pretty under his thrusts. What was love when your own mind worked against you every moment of your life to pin down and kill every spark of happiness? What was love when you had lost everything you had, even the very essence of yourself? Tom kissed Becky, his forever ago one-and-only, and tried to imbue himself with what he thought he remembered love was like.

She didn't make it hard, either. Hot and snug and wet around him, sure, but it was her smile and her eyes and her arms that sealed the deal. When they were kids, he had loved her so hard, so deep for a few years, the love burning so bright and intense. It was embers now, revived in their embrace, kindled again. He loved her still. He had and he did, perhaps the only thing that made as much sense to him as it had in the past. Perhaps the one simple emotion he could still make sense of.

It wasn't the thrill of a fuck in a deserted movie theater in the middle of a fucking horror show. Well, it was, but it wasn't just that. It wasn't even just being back in their old seats, the memories imprinted in every square inch of them, it wasn't just the solitude. It was looking into her eyes as he made love to her with every fiber of him, and feeling for the first time in longer than he cared to remember that he was understood. That someone knew a pain as sore, as gaping as his, and that together they weren't strong enough to fix it, but fuck them if they weren't going to try to forget it entirely in each other's arms. It was being alive, whatever that meant anymore. He had always loved her eyes. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw in them the same teasing glint as he had seen a thousand times when they were kids. Santa kissed his honey and the world made a little bit of sense.

"This is the best movie ever."

But she pulled him back, closer, so close he would drown in the warmth of her, the heat. His face buried in the crook of her neck, he closed his eyes. Knowing that he was capable of love, of tenderness again, that not all of him was gone. A hand tugging the fabric on his back, the other tight in his hair. He had missed being held like that. He had missed loving someone, making love to someone. To Becky Barnes. Tom didn't believe in fate, or in anything for a long time, but still, he was overwhelmed with how much sense it suddenly made for him to be back in her arms.

Nothing could last forever, especially not moments of happiness or, at the very least, pleasure. Kisses against her shoulder, her neck, breathing in the smell of her, soft hair against his skin. Kisses against his jaw, his cheek, hands cupping his face to hers when she sensed him drawing near. He kissed her.

"You first," he muttered.

Hand between her legs, rubbing her till she whimpered and squirmed under him. That hadn't changed, not too much. So much of them had faded away, but after all these years, his body was still made to please hers. That, if nothing else, still worked. She came under his fingers, under his dick, and just now, Tom was filled with completion, with contentment. Warm and soft, pulsing around her, maybe this was even a short moment of perfection already fleeting away. He came as she held him tight and close and, slowing down to a still, felt a sudden quiet clarity. Time matched their rhythm, gifting them the privacy of this moment lingering on. He gave gentle kisses against her neck, her ear, a sigh of relief. Her hands were as tender now as they had been eager, circles up his back smoother, softer. He sighed out.

They couldn't stay here forever, they wouldn't. But Tom would grant them this brief instant of relief, a meager reward for the years that had come before, and eventually they would have to go on with their sad lives.

At least they'd go on together.


End file.
